


We're the Asteroid that's Overdue

by GoldStarGrl



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Assassians AU, Gen, High School, Murder, Revenge, Violence, mentions of csa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 23:28:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11367858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldStarGrl/pseuds/GoldStarGrl
Summary: The Reynolds twins committed murder for the first time just a few months shy of their fifteenth birthday.





	We're the Asteroid that's Overdue

Their parents called them self-absorbed.

Endless hours of their teenage years were spent locked in their respective bedrooms, seven feet across the hall from each other, doors shut tight; Dee practicing her lines for the school play all day, Dennis blasting Steve Winwood on his stereo and comparing lipstick-mascara combinations all night. They belonged on their own tidally locked planets, only emerging to steal booze or get into a fight in the bathroom about some perceived slight. 

But Dee wasn’t as dumb as Barbara said she was. She noticed things. Especially when it came to her brother.

With only a month left in ninth grade, had Dennis begun to act weird. Weird for Dennis, that was; in another child, it would have come off as politeness. He got very, very quiet.

Dee would snipe at him or Frank would yell at him to pick up his shit in the living room and instead of fighting back, launching into one of his inane, endless soliloquies the family was pretty sure he just memorized from some TV show none of them had seen, he would just walk away.

He stopped eating at dinner and breakfast, although Dee did see him sneaking beers out of the fridge more afternoons than not. In the middle of the night, the floor outside her room would creak and she would see his feet, motionless under the bedroom door, pointed towards her like he was about to knock.

Two weeks before summer vacation, on the fourth night in a row he did this, Dee had enough.

“Jesus Christ, _what?”_ She flung open the door.

Dennis’ face was white, whiter than the week he’d been experimenting with powdered foundation. He swayed towards her, across the threshold, and then backwards, threatening to fall.

“I think I’m sick.” He mumbled, and dropped to his knees on her carpet.

It took almost two hours for Dee to get the story out of him. How Ms. Klinsky from the library - _no she doesn’t look like Rick Moranis, no, shut up_ \- had cornered Dennis one hot Friday afternoon when no one else was in the building. How they had sex - _sex with Ms. Klinsky!_ \- but it wasn’t what he thought sex was going to be like. And how since then nothing really felt like how to was supposed to feel.

He couldn’t feel anything.

After that, it only took fifteen minutes to formulate a plan. In Dee’s mind, the solution lit up clear in front of her, a long, straight road suddenly flooded with streetlights.

Someone fucked with a Reynolds twin. Someone fucked with the other half of her soul. So now they had to pay.

When Dee and Dennis were in 7th grade, they sat on the floor in front of the television every single day after school, watching the Menendez brothers’ trial.

“Don’t get any ideas.” Frank warned them as he breezed by. Dennis rolled onto his stomach, feeting kicking aimlessly in the air behind him.

“Please, you wish Dee and I were this dumb.”

Dee’s heart lifted at Dennis’ words, the way it did whenever he threw a rare compliment her way.

They weren’t stupid. They barely had to study for tests to pass, not like Charlie, whose mom made him stay for after school help and who still got Ds and Fs. They read real books, bought them new from the store, not like when Ronnie got busted for trying to steal a Jackie Chan movie from the Blockbuster.

So they studied and they read. Dee decided they should act before school got out.

“You’re right. It will be much harder to account for our movements when we’re on summer vacation.” Dennis agreed.

Ever since they started working on their plan, a little light had come back to his eyes. He started to yell over Dee once and awhile, which she found fucking obnoxious, but at least it was familiar.

The next day at school, Dennis sweet talked Nikki Potnick, who sometimes worked in the front office after school, while Dee swiped the faculty directory from the drawer of her desk. _Klinsky, 41 Rhododendron Drive._

On Thursday night, when Frank was on a business trip and Barbara put herself to bed with a happy pill, Dennis invited Charlie and Ronnie to sleepover.

Dee gave them weed and beer, their own bottles were full of water. The night got darker, their friends got sillier. Charlie curled up on the ground like a cat in a sunbeam and fell asleep. Ronnie lasted a little longer, and kept nuzzling his face into Dennis’ neck before he too dozed off.

Alibi, check.

Dennis siphoned gas out of their mother’s Lexus into a red, plastic container until it was so heavy he could barely lift it. Dee tucked her blonde hair under a Phillies cap so it wouldn’t catch any light, and side-by-side, not saying a word, they walked the four miles to the grimy little Rhododendron Drive, right at the uneven point of the city where their neighborhood started to morph into Charlie and Ronnie’s.

Dee squeezed Dennis’ hand before ducking into the bushes.

He stood alone on the steps for a moment, breathing hard, before he rang the doorbell, a smile plastered across his face. She opened it moments later, surprised but pleased

Dennis accepted a glass of wine, sat with his arms and legs sprawled on the brown, worn living room couch as Ms. Klinsky rubbed his arm.

All the while, Dee walked around the perimeter of the house, dumping gasoline straight out of the can and singing softly to herself.

When she finished her circulation, she dribbled the last of it on the wooden front door, stood on her tiptoes, and waved to her brother through the pane.

Dennis leaned in to kiss Ms. Klinsky, closer, closer, his hands sliding up her cheeks - and then he pulled back and bashed his forehead against hers, knocking her unconscious. He walked out onto the front lawn.

“We set?” Dee asked. He nodded, rubbing his smarting head with the heel of his hand.

She lit the match.

The fire department could prove it was arson, of course, but who would burn down the house of a high school librarian? Her body was identifiable, but any loose hairs or alien fingerprints had been burned away.

Charlie was pissed that they missed it. “I can’t believe the four of us slept over here!” He whined as they all sat at the Reynolds’ breakfast nook the next morning, the TV blaring the news while Ronnie rummaged through the freezer for bacon. “We should’ve hung out at my house, it’s right by there!”

“Bummer.” Dee said, yawning and stretching her arms above her head before she put on her back brace.

The school held a memorial in the gym and Dennis cried. Dee went home, took the empty gas container out from under the frilly pink comforter of her canopy bed, and threw it in the Schuylkill River.

The next morning Dennis started eating again, sitting on the steps to the second floor of the mansion with a bowl of oatmeal balanced on his knees.

It was the first day of summer vacation.


End file.
